This is a short prose inspired by my recent study on the Greek word “tetelestai”, which is commonly translated as “It is finished”, the words uttered by Christ as He was dying. The poem describes precisely its meaning, or at least I hope it does. I'm more accustomed to writing poems of a different nature, so do pardon me if you find its craftsmanship shoddy.
Tetelestai
As He cried out on that cross, “It is finished”
As love, not nails held Him there, He uttered His last,
the earth shook and my prison bars were shattered
and there He stood before my sorrow-stricken eyes.
His arms outstretched in a loving embrace
“My child, you are free to go
for I have bore your sentence in full.
Go, and sin no more.”
As He cried out on that cross, “It is finished”,
death could not hold Him for long.
He took my ever-compounding debts,
paid them in full with His precious blood
and emancipated me from eternal slavery.
Then He hoisted me upon His shoulder,
and showed me a mansion from afar,
“My child, it awaits you at the end of your journey
where you will dwell with Me forever.”
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Dream Once More
Dark have been my dreams of late.
Those, those memories will never forsake me,
they clawed at wounds that never truly healed.
They casted a shroud of eternal darkness,
yet I sojourned on stained in tears and blood.
Resigned to this curse I bear on my palm
I dared not dream, much less hope once more
‘Til a single beam broke the darkness.
Perhaps a glimmer of hope lingers…
12.30 am. Should be getting ready for bed. :) Goodnight folks.
Those, those memories will never forsake me,
they clawed at wounds that never truly healed.
They casted a shroud of eternal darkness,
yet I sojourned on stained in tears and blood.
Resigned to this curse I bear on my palm
I dared not dream, much less hope once more
‘Til a single beam broke the darkness.
Perhaps a glimmer of hope lingers…
12.30 am. Should be getting ready for bed. :) Goodnight folks.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Sleep Eludes Me
Its almost 2 am on Monday, the 2nd of April 2007. I should be asleep right now but I can't for some inexplicable reason. I'll blog awhile and try to shake off this bout of insomnia.
Another tattered page
is lost to the winds,
of which is written upon
a fragment of the memoirs
of a melancholic soul.
That's all I can manage for the night... Goodnight folks :)
Another tattered page
is lost to the winds,
of which is written upon
a fragment of the memoirs
of a melancholic soul.
That's all I can manage for the night... Goodnight folks :)
Monday, February 05, 2007
Superficiality and friendship. That is the theme of the night. Another word for that would be shallowness or on-the-surface for those of you who might be frantically flipping through your dictionaries. Nah, just joking. :)
Recent events involving different groups of people have led me to the realization that despite knowing people for years, I still don't know them. Yea, its ironical that despite knowing someone for 5, or even 6 or 7 years yet I know next to nothing about that person. No, I'm not referring to those people whom you go "hi" and "bye" whenever you bump into them and that constitutes 90% of the conversation you have with them. I'm referring to those people whom you hang out with on a regular basis.
One minor example that happened a year or two before of what I'm talking about is a friend whom I have known for several years and would even consider among my inner circle. How surprising it was to find out that throughout all these years this particular friend had a relationship and eventually broke off and he drifted off into depression. All these happened right under my nose without me getting a whiff of it. Eventually I found out about it through a third party. Til this day, I bear the pretense that I am totally unaware of the whole affair. He does not know that I am aware about his previous relationship and the following incidents. I did try to probe however but I ended up rebuffed. So much for being friends and regular lepakking. Please don't ask me who it is because I'm not saying who. I won't play guessing games either. :)
Through several other experiences I've learnt that time does not necessarily strengthen a friendship. I've found knives in my back bearing the names of those I've considered as friends for a long time. Apparently not. How painful it has been time and time again to see a friend rejoice over my misfortune. How painful it has been time and time again to realize a friend scheming against me. How painful it has been to be the object of hate. Through it all I've learnt bitterness and to be distrustful of people in general. Sorry, my friends if I seem cold or distant at times. Sorry for the things which I cannot or will not do. These are the scars of wounds that have not healed.
This is a poem written last year. It has a macabre touch but its actually part of a series that carries a deeper meaning.
Recent events involving different groups of people have led me to the realization that despite knowing people for years, I still don't know them. Yea, its ironical that despite knowing someone for 5, or even 6 or 7 years yet I know next to nothing about that person. No, I'm not referring to those people whom you go "hi" and "bye" whenever you bump into them and that constitutes 90% of the conversation you have with them. I'm referring to those people whom you hang out with on a regular basis.
One minor example that happened a year or two before of what I'm talking about is a friend whom I have known for several years and would even consider among my inner circle. How surprising it was to find out that throughout all these years this particular friend had a relationship and eventually broke off and he drifted off into depression. All these happened right under my nose without me getting a whiff of it. Eventually I found out about it through a third party. Til this day, I bear the pretense that I am totally unaware of the whole affair. He does not know that I am aware about his previous relationship and the following incidents. I did try to probe however but I ended up rebuffed. So much for being friends and regular lepakking. Please don't ask me who it is because I'm not saying who. I won't play guessing games either. :)
Through several other experiences I've learnt that time does not necessarily strengthen a friendship. I've found knives in my back bearing the names of those I've considered as friends for a long time. Apparently not. How painful it has been time and time again to see a friend rejoice over my misfortune. How painful it has been time and time again to realize a friend scheming against me. How painful it has been to be the object of hate. Through it all I've learnt bitterness and to be distrustful of people in general. Sorry, my friends if I seem cold or distant at times. Sorry for the things which I cannot or will not do. These are the scars of wounds that have not healed.
This is a poem written last year. It has a macabre touch but its actually part of a series that carries a deeper meaning.
Exile - Part II
15th December 2006
15th December 2006
O Horror,
does it pleasure you
to hear my agonized screams?
Never mind that it was forbidden,
the fruit of death has never been sweeter.
As the truth dawned like a failed star
on a death saturated wastelands,
I savoured every illicit morsel
until I saw it
for what it truly was.
I saw you in the eye.
O Despair,
that you would mock at the stains
that linger on my hands.
Laugh at me gleefully
as I scrape my fingers bloody
in vain.
O Fear,
that you would jeer
as I draw my wounds.
Your silent voice
torments my soul
as you leech me of my sanity.
You claw at my bleeding heart,
taunting me of impending judgement.
O Shame,
how could you rub my raw wounds?
Accursed I am now,
to wander to the ends of the earth,
scarred and desolate
forever reminded of my sins.
Only to have you as my companion
til my grave and beyond.
does it pleasure you
to hear my agonized screams?
Never mind that it was forbidden,
the fruit of death has never been sweeter.
As the truth dawned like a failed star
on a death saturated wastelands,
I savoured every illicit morsel
until I saw it
for what it truly was.
I saw you in the eye.
O Despair,
that you would mock at the stains
that linger on my hands.
Laugh at me gleefully
as I scrape my fingers bloody
in vain.
O Fear,
that you would jeer
as I draw my wounds.
Your silent voice
torments my soul
as you leech me of my sanity.
You claw at my bleeding heart,
taunting me of impending judgement.
O Shame,
how could you rub my raw wounds?
Accursed I am now,
to wander to the ends of the earth,
scarred and desolate
forever reminded of my sins.
Only to have you as my companion
til my grave and beyond.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Scarlet Moonlight
31st December 2006
A rose so red
stands so fragile
alone in the green tide.
There her tears cascade,
and the rose glistens
under silvery moonbeams.
Every drop that stains the flower
melts white crystals of frost.
As she kneels by a lake,
ripples break out in discord
shattering the face on it.
Even the winds are reminding her
of her lonely fate.
Clutching the flower
tightly to her chest,
dreams once so faint
have altogether faded.
Behind that pale pink smile
lies a scarlet sea
of pain unpainted.
On those glassy eyes
run a stream of yesterday's tears
flowing over a riverbed
of shattered hearts.
Why does the river of life
twist in such a convoluted manner?
On every red petal that drifts
from her hand into the wind
is carved yet another chapter
of an untold tragedy.
Where the crimson flower falls,
there sorrow will take root.
I crafted this poem in one of my moments of boredom. With the internet so badly disrupted, I can only post it up now. By the way, I just so love emo songs.. how nice if someone could write this poem of mine into one... :)
31st December 2006
A rose so red
stands so fragile
alone in the green tide.
There her tears cascade,
and the rose glistens
under silvery moonbeams.
Every drop that stains the flower
melts white crystals of frost.
As she kneels by a lake,
ripples break out in discord
shattering the face on it.
Even the winds are reminding her
of her lonely fate.
Clutching the flower
tightly to her chest,
dreams once so faint
have altogether faded.
Behind that pale pink smile
lies a scarlet sea
of pain unpainted.
On those glassy eyes
run a stream of yesterday's tears
flowing over a riverbed
of shattered hearts.
Why does the river of life
twist in such a convoluted manner?
On every red petal that drifts
from her hand into the wind
is carved yet another chapter
of an untold tragedy.
Where the crimson flower falls,
there sorrow will take root.
I crafted this poem in one of my moments of boredom. With the internet so badly disrupted, I can only post it up now. By the way, I just so love emo songs.. how nice if someone could write this poem of mine into one... :)
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